Monday, June 14, 2010

I am walking towards that door, the very door I like to walk on this very night. The streets are half lit in gloomy shadowed lights coming down from the palatial high rise buildings, built centuries back. The ghosts are everywhere around me, some are whispering in my ears to taste the forbidden fruits infested with insects from hell. The blue dark shadowed windows of the palaces are hiding the courteous female spirits while the ghosts are inviting me towards the unresisting, obscene, formidable sins that head to the point of no return. The streets are smelling that of sweat, blood and melting meat loafs from the rotten mortals who are turning into or turned into ghosts. Being a human being in this ghost infested hell is tough, really tough, if not impossible.

I entered through the door, climbed down the circular staircase towards hell. This hell is beautifully decorated with glistening glasses and mirrors that reflect the misshapen faces of the ghosts. The reddish light coming from the ovens , where some more spirits are being burnt and baked into deliciousness, and bottles full of blood and gold and venom are being served to all. The lady spirits are dancing with their counterparts in a recklessness and the loud music in this dim lit smoky air will certainly make you half dizzy, half psychic, half ghost, if you are still alive.

I took a corner seat reserved for me, being a well known ghost to the king of this hell, I am here to enjoy my night with the spirits I like. I opted for a golden spirit, in a hourglass shaped glass. I want to burn myself in these ovens, just like to be fried into delicacy, into immortal pleasure of dying. I unloaded the whole drink from the glass in my throat. The spirit tried to ravage my throat with it's immense hatred towards the mortals but with pleasant sooth ness to this dead throat of mine. I am feeling better now, hinted towards the ghost to pour me the spirit time and again.

The music died down, the female spirit, who was hinting towards me to taste some of her surprises lost her patience and left slowly. The ghost, that was serving me has also become tired of me. He has put the whole bottle of spirit in front of me, just to help myself towards my end. I am eagerly trying to meet my end either to finish this immortal cursed life to oblivion, to meet you in the next life, my love, my first crush.

Even now I can see your smiling face in front of me, sitting just beside me , dressed in the same white school dress, holding my hand, to help me get up on my wasted feet and head towards the circular staircase of this hell, through the darkness to dawn. You have become someone else's, but I haven't lost you, specially on this very day of your marriage anniversary. The stabbing pain in my heart cannot steal my sweet memories of you. The ugliest thoughts I can think about you, cannot turn me jealous towards the lucky man, whom I have lost you, as you have chosen that destiny. You are the angel of my life, saving me through each of the unforgiving blows from life, until death. Your sweet voice heard, is always murmuring in my ears to save me from all the evils. Your best wishes on the torn letters written long back, are still lying with me, to guide me through every hell on earth, towards heaven. For, I am still loving you.

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These are short stories written by me on lives around Kolkata and Sector V of Salt Lake City. All the characters, institutions depicted here are for the sake of the fiction and have no direct relation to any person live or dead and any such resemblance will be purely coincidental.